


Calderon Beta

by TygerTyger



Series: Kink Meme Stories and General Smut [6]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:43:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TygerTyger/pseuds/TygerTyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is baffled by River's odd behaviour on her first night out of Stormcage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calderon Beta

**Author's Note:**

> Based on "First Night/Last Night" from the Night and the Doctor shorts from the series 6 DVD, although you don't need to have seen it to read this. The Doctor tells River that she never changes before they go out, I figured that would be a bit intimidating for the younger version of River.

_"Calderon Beta — boring, planet of the chip-shops — but there is a four hundred foot tree growing out of a cliff-top in the north side of a mountain in the middle of the sea. And if you take the lift to the top and look up at exactly twelve minutes past midnight on the twenty-first of September 2360 you can see more stars in one sky than at any other moment in the history of the universe. It’s like daylight — only magic. You could read a book by it.”_ _— _Night and the Doctor.__  
 __  
__

“Here we are,” the Doctor said. “Now, we could take the stairs, but I don’t think we’ll have time so it will have to be the lift.”

“It looks like it’s closed, maybe we should leave it.” River said.

“Nonsense,” he replied, looking at her curiously. “I promised you stars, and stars you shall have.” He sidled over to the velvet rope and lifted it for her to duck underneath, she did and he followed her. She was unusually quiet; she had been growing steadily more so since they stepped out of the TARDIS.

She hopped from foot to foot.

“Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?” he asked.

She stopped hopping. “No, I’m not cold.”

He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one as watching and jimmied the lock on the lift with his sonic. The doors swished open and they entered; he pressed the button for the canopy. “We should have the place to ourselves,” he grinned and leaned in a little to press his shoulder to hers. She didn’t respond.

 _Odd,_ he thought.

The glass lift rose silently through numerous layers of branches, slowly meandering its way to the top. “You know, this is one of the finest specimen trees in the universe, it’s actually older than the planet it’s growing on. It was moved here forty two thousand years ago when it was just a sapling by today’s standards, but still, at the time, its girth proved troublesome—”

He paused, realising what was missing — the innuendo. “River, are you feeling all right? You’re unusually quiet.”

“I’m fine, I’m good,” she said, almost as though she were trying to convince herself, not him. He looked down at her, concerned, and she forced a smile. The doors of the lift opened as they arrived at canopy level. She held his gaze for a few moments until he resumed his lecture, walking out through the doors to the canopy platform.

“As I was saying, when they moved it here they had trouble finding a cargo ship that was equipped to handle its girth so, in the end, it had to be strapped to the hull of a starliner with an air corridor constructed to keep it alive. Groups of botanists had to take shifts on the hull to ensure its root-ball was kept adequately lubricated—”

He stopped again and looked at her. “River, please tell me what’s wrong, I’m using all sorts of words that could easily be twisted into something cheeky and you’re not even trying. There must be something wrong because you’re never like this.”

“What am I usually like?” she asked quietly, her face turned away from him.

He approached her and chucked a knuckle under her chin and guided her face back up. “I’m sorry, you’re not usually anything. You’re a constant surprise and delight.” She smiled slightly but kept her eyes fixed on a point on the ground.

“Come along now,” he said, “it’s almost time.” He offered her his hand and she took it. He guided her to the edge and rested an elbow on top of the safety railing. She joined him and leaned out over the edge to look down. “Goodness, it’s high. I feel like it should be colder, or windier?”

“The tree is a _Quercus Temperis —_ it emits heat, providing its own micro-climate, so it’s always clement up here, even if it’s freezing at ground level. Here, feel, it’s warm.” He took her hand and placed it on the bark.

She smiled, “That’s impressive.”

“I know,” he said. “As the tree grew, its roots destabilised the mountain and broke it in two, sending one half tumbling into the ocean, which is why it’s now growing on a cliff—”

“You know this story very well, it’s almost as if you’ve told it before. Tell me Doctor,” she said, turning to face him, “is this where you bring all the girls?”

“All the who? What girls?” River turned back to look out over the ocean. “What? You think this is my go-to place? That I bring various women to the one moment in time, in the one place in the universe where the most stars can be seen in one sky? Well you caught me. In fact I’m about to come sauntering around that corner any minute now with my latest… _conquest_. River, you’re being ridiculous.”

“I know I am,” she sighed quietly.

“Oh, River,” he said, softening. He pushed a stray curl behind her ear and said, “My River. This is the only time I’m going to see this, and it’s you I want to share it with. Only you.”

“I know,” she replied. “It’s not that. It’s not others…it’s me. You know me in a way that I don’t know you…it’s…”

“Intimidating? I can sympathise.”

“I suppose you can. Well, how did you handle it?”

“Oh, just horribly. You’re doing a much better job.”

She smirked. He took her hand in his two and stroked it tenderly. “River, you don’t need to be intimidated, or nervous, or scared.”

“I know. It’s inevitable, it’s going to happen, I don’t know why I can’t just accept that.”

“It’s not inevitable, River. It’s your choice, all of it. I promise you that I will never push, or assume, or force…anything.”

“But you brought me here, got me on my own at the top of a bloody great big tree with all of the stars — don’t tell me you weren’t making some sort of assumption.”

“There is a subtle difference between assumption and hope,” he said with a grin and she laughed.

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “Let’s get a proper look at these stars.” She brought him over to a huge flattish branch, which was growing parallel to the viewing platform built into the canopy. Its bark had become smoothed and polished by millennia of being used as a seat by visitors pausing to admire the view out across the ocean.

The Doctor slid his jacket off before placing it aside and they lay down on the smooth comfortable bough together, feeling the warmth of the tree penetrate through their clothes. The stars almost filled the heavens but didn’t seem nearly as glorious as he had hoped. “It’s a bit underwhelming, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Maybe when it gets to twelve minutes past?”

“There’s only going to be one extra star, so don’t expect it to be much better.”

“Well, I like it,” she said.

“I was just hoping for a more spectacular experience for you. It is our first night together after all.”

“My first night, you mean,” she said propping herself on her elbow and looking down at him.

“I know what I mean,” he said and stroked her cheek. She smiled and closed her eyes, inclining her face into his palm. He guided her down into a kiss and traced his hand along the side of her body, scooping his thumb along the outer curve of her breast as he passed.

She hummed and ran her hand down along the placket of his shirt to his waistband and slid the tips of her fingers underneath. They were cool against his skin; it was somehow both a new and familiar sensation all at once — this would be her first experience of him, she’d never have another like it. The thought thrilled and terrified him: a second chance of a first time with her.

She broke the kiss and looked at him, anxiously gnawing her lip. “I don’t know why this is so difficult, it’s not like I haven’t— This is different.”

“Different? Oh! Erm, Time Lord and human…anatomy…are…compatible, if that’s what you mean? Pretty much identical, in fact—”

“No!” she laughed, “Not that. I hadn’t even thought about that! But thanks!” She patted his arm. “No, I meant this _feels_ different. I’ve never felt like this before, it has me a bit at sea. Normally I’m very much the captain of my own ship.”

He paused a moment before he spoke; that “normally” caught him slightly off guard. “What you’re feeling, I want you to know that I feel it too. Very, very much.” He took her hand and held it to his chest between his hearts. “Let’s just lie back and watch the stars.”

She nestled down into the nook of his shoulder and they both sighed. After a few minutes River broke the silence. “Doctor, this really is a bit rubbish, isn’t it?”

He chuckled, “It’s probably all the ambient light up here,” he said, lifting his head and looking across at the open doors of the lift and the greenish light spilling out from it. “Hang on…maybe I can…” He extracted his arm from underneath River and went to his jacket to fetch his sonic. He fiddled with the settings and wandered towards the lift whilst River watched on amusedly. He opened a panel, cocked his head at the mess of wires and pinched his chin. He crouched to get a better look and then pointed his sonic into the box. Darkness descended and the number of visible stars quadrupled immediately, bathing the treetop in the ghostly light of millions of distant suns.

River sat up and gasped, “It’s spectacular.”

“Yes, it is,” he said, not looking at the sky, but at her face and the stars reflected in the amber pools of her eyes. He went back to the branch and sat next to her, putting his hand over hers, and joined her in gazing at the heavens.

“Such a difference from one little lift-light?” she asked, awed.

“One little lift-light, and an entire planet’s electrical grid.”

“Oh you are bad, what about all of the people? Doctor, what about all of the chip-shops?” she gasped in mock concern.

“I lied. It’s not a chip-shop planet — it’s an arboretum, the best one in the known universe. I couldn’t risk you finding out and dragging me around looking at trees all night,” he said, tapping her on the nose. “There are probably still a few tourists down there wondering what’s going on, though.”

River laughed and scooched in closer to him until he wrapped his arm around her and stroked the bare skin of her shoulder. He looked at his watch and then scanned the skies. “There, watch that little blank spot.” He pointed and she dropped her head to follow the line of his arm to a patch of darkness amongst the light. A moment later, there it was — a new star born before their eyes. So far away, long ago and seemingly insignificant, but they witnessed its beginning.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the ocean roll far below. “What am I like when I’m older?” River asked eventually.

“Oh, you’re infuriating, and gorgeous, capable, strong. You certainly give me a run for my money. You’re kind and brave and you _always_ seem to know what the right thing to do is. In fact I think you’re one of the best people to have ever existed and I adore you and everything that you are. So in short, when you’re older, you’re exactly as you are now.” He squeezed her shoulder for added effect.

She grumbled at the compliment.

“Honestly River, a lot of the time I can’t tell the difference at all, which is why you need to be religious about that diary. I could end up telling you all sorts of things that I shouldn’t.”

“What? You can’t tell the difference?” she asked, disbelieving.

“You’re the same woman,” he shrugged, “it doesn’t seem to make any difference to my hearts how old or young you are.”

She stretched up and placed a lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth and he smiled, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her arm. She moved her mouth down to the line of his jaw and bit gently before kneeling up next to him and kissing him tenderly until he lay back on the branch. She put her hands on his face and looked down at him in wonder. “Where did you come from, eh?”

He thought about how it must seem from her perspective, that the man she was raised to hate would love her in spite of it, without condition, and forgive her anything. It didn’t surprise him that she found it intimidating.

“Same place as you,” he replied, threading his fingers into the star specked silhouette of her hair. She bent down and kissed him, softly at first, but growing steadily in intensity. She rolled over on top of him, pressing a thigh between his legs.

She broke the kiss and said, “I see it’s not just your hearts that don’t seem to care what version of me they get.” She smiled gamely, her hesitation fading fast.

“Ha!” he said with delight. “Now, less talking and more kissing.” He made the kissy-kissy face. She laughed, but complied to the request all the same, sliding her tongue across his parting lips. He wanted to let her set the pace, like she had done for him so many years before, so he only matched her intensity and didn’t increase it.

“Doctor, could you do something for me?” she asked, pushing herself up on two straight arms to hover above him.

“Anything.”

“It’s just that, well, I’ve always been trying to take charge of my life when other people wouldn’t let me. And here you are, giving me the control and all I seem to want is to relinquish it — to you.”

He was not expecting that. He did know that River enjoyed his taking charge when she was older, but he had always assumed that it was something that had developed over time. “Are you sure? I mean…if there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with just let me know,” he said and she nodded her agreement. “Even if I do take charge, it’s still all up to you, you only need to speak up.”

She bit her lip and her cheeks flushed. 

“What is it?” he asked.

“Just the thought of you ‘taking charge’ of me; it makes me all goosepimply.” She feigned a shudder and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, River Song, if you like the thought, just wait for the act!” he said, rolling her onto her back. He knelt up, loosened his bowtie and whipped it off. He noticed her breathing quicken and her pupils dilate as she observed his silhouetted form coolly unfasten his braces and then unbutton his shirt as he knelt above her. He undid his cuffs and slid out of the shirt, revealing his bare-armed vested torso.

He sat and brought his foot up to undo his laces. “Here, let me,” she said, sliding towards him and loosening the laces before slipping off one shoe and then the other. She quickly kicked off her own ugly desert boots, letting them fall of the branch and out of view.

She looked at him, unable to conceal a spark of nervousness and doubt. He placed a steadying palm on her cheek and met her gaze, his own hearts pounding under the weight of the moment.

She acquiesced.

 

 

He held her firmly by the waist and guided her to sit further back up the smooth warm limb of the tree. He slipped his hand under the hem of her top, taking a moment to slide the backs of his fingers along the unseen silken skin of her stomach, before dragging the garment up over her head and away.

“Standard prison issue,” she said, apologising for her generic flesh-tone bra.

“We’ll get you nicer things,” he assured her. “Nothing standard for my non-standard wife.”

She unhooked it and let the straps slip down over her arms before removing it to reveal her creamy-skinned breasts and dusky nipples. She seemed coy and chewed her lip nervously.

“Give it to me,” he said, extending his hand. “I never want to see it again.” She looked surprised and handed him the bra. He turned, stretched the elastic, aimed, and let it fly off over the edge of the tree.

She laughed and he turned back to her. “You have no idea just how beautiful you are, do you?” he said running the flat of his palm up over her torso and to cup her breast. “Well, I’m going to show you.”

He could feel her breathing hasten. “Lie back,” he instructed and she complied. He knelt above her for a few moments, casting an admiring hand up and down her form; she twisted catlike under his caress. He brought his palm to her cheek and placed his thumb over her lips. They parted easily and he sank the digit into her mouth. She licked it with the flat of her tongue and then sucked.

He could have so easily pressed into her mind then, but he didn’t. He knew the risk — they had to keep their minds separate, for now at least, until he could teach her how to control it. He bypassed the desire and instead extracted his thumb from her mouth and kissed her hungrily.

He broke away to look at her again and she moved up onto her elbows, holding his gaze — not a trace of doubt remained in her eyes. He was pleased and smirked as he bent down over her and licked a trail from her navel up over her sternum, pausing to kiss the delicate skin there.

He moved his mouth to her nipple, placing a feather light kiss on it before lapping it with his hot tongue. Her back arched and he glanced up to see her watching his mouth. He smiled and retuned his attentions to her, now puckered, nipple, taking it into his mouth and holding it delicately between his teeth, angling his head to ensure she could see.

He flicked his tongue across it and she exhaled sharply. She gazed at him with solemn intensity, her brow knitted and her lips parted. She whimpered as she watched his tongue tease the very tip of her nipple held captive between his teeth.

He could have teased her for much longer, but not tonight. Tonight wasn’t about that.

He moved back up and kissed her deeply before sliding his hand down to the button of her trousers and undoing it in a single movement. He began kissing down the length of her body and her hands followed him into his hair, stroking it softly. He moved down to the waistband of her trousers and tugged them down and off along with her knickers and threw them to one side.

He looked down over her body laid out in front of him like water nymph in a pre-Raphaelite painting — that is, if water nymphs wore socks. She toed at the band of one of them.

“No,” he said, putting a hand over her feet, “leave them on. I like it.”

She raised an eyebrow and smirked.

He ran his palm up along her calf and thigh, encouraging her legs to fall open as he crawled up over her and slid his fingers down between her folds.  He hovered above her so that he could observe her reactions. The corner of her mouth twitched as he circled her clit. He slid his fingers inside and her head went back revealing the gorgeous stretch of her creamy throat; he could see her swallow. He moved his thumb to her clit and pressed lightly — she emitted a shuddering moan. He could feel her muscles clench around his fingers and was overcome with the desire to taste her.

He began to travel down her body again; she stopped moving and tapped him on the top of the head. He slowed his fingers inside her and looked up at her curiously.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

He was taken aback by the request: River, asking him _not_ to do what he knew was her most favourite thing of all. “Why not?”

“Well, it can’t be that pleasant really—”

“Not pleasant? Oh River, River. I’ll have you know that it’s one of the most fantastically pleasant things that I know of.” She looked unconvinced so he continued, “Knowing how much I’m turning you on and tasting your arousal on my tongue as I get you off, nmph,” he said, biting his lip and she whimpered.

This glimpse of her vulnerability pleased him, she may have had other lovers, but this was his. He was going to show her something she liked, that no one else got to show her. And, _fuck_ , was she going to like this.

He began moving his fingers again; sliding them all the way inside then drawing them back out slowly. “Tell, me River, do you trust me?” She nodded. “Well then, just relax and let me show you how worthy of that trust I am.” She exhaled and relaxed her legs again.

“You’re going to listen to me now, and do as I say,” he told her. “You’re going to close your eyes and shut off all of your thoughts and all of your doubts.” She closed her eyes. “Now, lie back and relax your shoulders.” She did. “You’re going to concentrate on nothing apart from the sensations in your cunt, not on what I’m doing or anything else, just how it feels.” She made a tiny sound of consent. He moved himself lower, positioned himself and withdrew his fingers. He wanted her to know the sensation of his mouth on its own — to accept it.

He kissed and nipped at her soft inner thigh, swinging her socked foot up over his shoulder. He hitched her other knee out to the side, opening her up before him. A thrill ran through him at the sight of her: bathed in starlight, laid bare in front of him: vulnerable and intoxicating.

He moved his mouth down and kissed her clit gently. She writhed and he reminded her, “Just focus on how it feels.” He made his tongue soft and licked her then, slow and gentle, tasting her arousal and her trepidation. He delivered his reassurance through his mouth and she responded with low moans and rolling hips.

He thought about all the times he had done this with her in his past, how she taught him the minute intricacies of her body, made his mouth the perfect fit for her. Had she been preparing him for this moment, when he would first teach her?

He remembered all the times, even before he had ever made love to her — before he had even kissed her — when she would watch him speak. He had always thought that it was the things he was saying, but now he was realising that it was his mouth she was studying. Watching it move and thinking of him doing this, licking and kissing her clit and making her come. He moaned at the insight and she cried out as the sound waves were transformed, vibrating through her. He felt his cock harden and was glad of the more forgiving trousers.

She began to take on a more familiar flavour; she was nearing her peak. Her back arched and he ran his fingers up under it. He wanted her to look now, to watch his mouth as his tongue brought her to orgasm. He swapped tongue for thumb and said, “Open your eyes, River. Look at my mouth.” She cried out again and snapped her eyes open, propped herself up on her elbows and watched.

Her face was a picture of concentration, as he used two fingers to part her lips so that she could see clearly. He licked her slowly and softly, watching her as her attention was fully upon his mouth; he smiled and continued his efforts. With every measured sweep of his tongue he could feel her getting closer, her voice rising and her body clenching arrhythmically. He kept his pace steady, resisting the urge to speed up or press harder.

He wanted her to remember the first time he made her come; he wanted it to rest near the foreground of her memories, called upon regularly. He wanted her to watch him speak and think about it. When she was alone, he wanted her to touch herself and get herself off at the recollection. But more than anything, he wanted her to never even imagine another man’s mouth on her cunt — that it would be his and his alone. Her face contorted and she came, screaming, as her body jerked and shuddered above him — her eyes still obediently fixed on his mouth.

He crawled up to her face and licked his lips. She sighed at the sight and then grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down to kiss him deeply and taste herself on his tongue. She laughed contentedly as she lay back and smiled at him, nestling happily into the warmth of the smooth bough.

 

 

He stood up off the branch onto the platform a couple of feet below. He untucked his vest from his trousers and peeled it off over his head before folding it and leaving it with the rest of his clothes.

She watched as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down. “You wear a vest, but no underwear?” she asked, surprised.

“The vest is part of the outfit,” he replied, smirking and folding the trousers carefully.

“And the absence of underwear?”

“The norm.”

“Oh, you are a naughty one, aren’t you?” she said with a grin as he awkwardly whipped his socks off. “No socks for me then?”

“No, you don’t get socks. Socks are mine,” he said, picking up her foot for effect. She wiggled it and he let it go. She placed it on his thigh.

“So, you like socks?” she said, raising a cheeky eyebrow.

“Specifically your socks, on you,” he clarified.

“Ah! I see,” she said, moving her foot to his cock and stroking it lightly with the arch of her foot. “I like things that rhyme with sock. Also, specifically yours, on you,” she nodded in mock earnestness. He gasped as she pressed his erection up to his stomach with the ball of her foot and caressed it lightly with her toes.

He grabbed her foot and held it to him. “Do you see how hard you make me, River?” he said, stripping back the layers of innuendo with one sentence. She pressed her foot more firmly onto him by means of an answer. He took hold of it and pulled it away, allowing his erection to drop from his stomach.

He looked at her foot in his hand and stroked the arch with the backs of his fingers. She squirmed as shivers shot up from her heel, along her back and out through all of her extremities. He smiled to himself as he placed her foot down.

She was watching him again with renewed intensity, her eyes were fixed on his cock and it twitched in response. He took hold of himself and began to make slow strokes, watching her watch his hand. Her eyes were almost black with desire, her breathing was shallow and she seemed more feral now: like a panther lying in wait.

“Do you want to know, River, how it feels to have my cock inside you?”

“Yes,” she replied, still watching his hand. He squeezed himself hard and stilled his hand for a moment before letting go and crawling back onto the branch. He arranged himself carefully on top of her warm body, resting his forehead on hers. They locked eyes, him looking into her and she into him through the blur of their proximity. He brushed his hand down the line of their pressed-together bodies, pausing to trace the outline of the side of her breast with his thumb.

“Do you want me, River?” He spoke into her mouth, millimetres from his.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

His hand continued on its path downward and pulled her thigh out to the side. He positioned himself between her legs and his cock pushed up against her hot opening as she swallowed quietly. He moved his hips in a gentle slow thrust, pushing himself partially inside her. He gasped at the heat and climax-fresh slickness of her around him and began to push deeper still.

Her breathing was quickening as he pinned her down under his weight. Her hands were resting on his hips, fingertips pressing lightly into his flesh. She tilted her hips and he was finally fully buried within her, pushing up against her cervix. He circled his hips slowly and she let out a long moan. He covered her mouth with his and sucked her lips as he began to thrust.

He moved more rhythmically as beads of sweat prickled his skin between them — hers or his, he didn’t know. He could feel the muscles of her abdomen contract and the walls of her cunt clench around him as he fucked her steadily. “You’re so — _fucking—_ wet, River.” He ground the words out between thrusts.

She moaned and clamped down hard on his cock. He kept his pace; her drenched cunt and tight muscles making him shiver from his scalp down to his toes. He closed his eyes and pushed his tongue into her mouth, wanting to fully occupy her body, when he couldn’t inhabit her mind.

He began to grind himself against her, drawing her own slickness up between them, the base of his cock sliding over her clit. She was becoming more vocal again, and paired with the irresistible pulsations around his cock he knew she was getting close. He was glad of it; it was taking almost all of his concentration to stave off his own climax.

He put his back into it, moving faster and thrusting deeper and harder into her. Her legs tangled around his and her hands moved to his arse, urging him on. Their sweat-soaked bodies began to slip and slide, rivulets escaping down the sides of her body and onto the tree.

He began to lose his pattern; his head could no longer control the demands of his body. To his relief, he felt her cunt clench hard around him and then flutter as she supressed her scream by biting down painfully on his lip. A streak of heat surged up through his cock and pulsed into her.

She let go of his lip and they breathed heavily into each other’s mouths, allowing the last of their spasms to ebb away. He rolled off her and the night air felt cool as their perspiration evaporated from his abdomen. He slapped his hand onto her saturated belly making a satisfying sound. “Mmm,” he said and caressed her stomach fondly.

Still breathless and smiling, she looked over at him. “How’s your lip?”

He put his hand up to his mouth and then inspected his fingers. “No blood,” he said, showing her and chuckling.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be,” he replied, shifting onto his side, kissing her tenderly and stroking her cheek. He moved his head down and rested it on her chest, listening to her twin heartbeats swoosh their paired rhythm on either side of his ear — he never grew tired of that sound. She stroked his damp hair.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, trailing a bead of sweat down towards her belly button.

“I was just thinking about how my feet are _bloody boiling_.”

He laughed, “Yes, you’ll have that. It’s one of the major risks associated with sock wearing. I’m surprised they don’t have warnings on the packets.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a walking contradiction?”

He lifted his head to look up at her. “Yes. You. Repeatedly.”

“I look forward to it,” she replied affectionately and they lay in each other’s arms and watched in wonder at the magnificence of the universe playing out above their heads and between their hearts.

 

 

“Come on,” he said, reluctantly climbing onto all-fours, “we had better get this planet lit up again before tourists’ families start sending out search parties.” He slapped her on the thigh, then offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet.

She stood in close to him and put her arms around his neck. “Can you leave the stars on, just for another minute?” She climbed up on her toes and pulled him down into a kiss. Her skin was cool and dry again. He ran his hands down the smooth length of her back and cupped her buttocks. “Okay, but just one more minute,” he agreed and returned her kiss, “ten at the very most.”

By the time he finally reactivated the electrical grid, the necessity for artificial lighting was long gone and he was praying that her parents were still asleep as they made their way sheepishly through the hordes of early morning tourists back to the TARDIS.

 


End file.
